


Visceral Child

by Ketakoshka



Series: Dread Child Jon [8]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Cannibalism, Eldritch Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Feral Behavior, Flesh Jon, Gen, Jon adopts a bunch of nearly feral animals, Jon's from Turkey, M/M, Pets, they kind of become monsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:33:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28256217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ketakoshka/pseuds/Ketakoshka
Summary: People often forget that the Flesh can bring about the most horrific of hungers. Jared's more than willing to provide for his boyfriend.-Jon is the Flesh's kid.
Relationships: Jared Hopworth/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Mr. Spider
Series: Dread Child Jon [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1884709
Comments: 6
Kudos: 92





	Visceral Child

**Author's Note:**

> Uh, the cannibalism conversation is kind of important, but none of that stuff is really graphic. Either way, you've been warned

"And for you, sir?"

"The sirloin steak, rare, with sautéed shrimp and a side of calamari, please."

The waiter nods and scurries off to the kitchen, their back stiff with dread the longer they stand next to the man who just doesn't  _ belong. _

"Such a carnivore."

Red eyes glint in the elegant lighting of the fanciful dining room as their owner gives a sharp-toothed grin. "What's the point in eating like a rabbit?" he retorts and clicks his nails on the table. "What's there to taste without the flesh?"

In this restaurant, the dining parties are all quite dignified, each patron dressing to maintain an atmosphere of elegance and wealth. It's for this reason that many eyes are drawn to the table holding an exceptionally well-off antiques dealer and a grungy-looking young man in torn jeans and a faded t-shirt.

From an outside perspective, only Jonathan Harker fails to meet this expectation. His 'date', Eugine Campbell maintains the kind of charismatic air that complements his expensive suit and coiffed hair perfectly… Yet his eyes hold a similar hunger to Jon's, just one held back by the trappings of society.

"I couldn't agree more," Campbell replies, his smug grin gaining the barest edge of savagery. "A fine cut of meat does far better for the spirit than all the money in the world."

Conversation continues in this abstract way, dancing around the subject in a way that presents perfect deniability, not that Jon needs it. This conversation is more for Campbell's sake, leading the man into a more open, relaxed state before dinner is served and business begun.

"Now," Jon begins, ripping off a piece of steak and purring at its weight on his tongue. "I know that you're moving again. Are you planning on having a welcoming party?"

"Of course… Will you be able to fulfill my order?"

"Easily. Delivered fresh the morning of the party. However…" Jon's voice goes cold, his red eyes glinting like new blood. "I hope that I will not have to remind you of this conversation… but you're on thin fucking ice." He laps at the juice on his fingers; it's so pink that the steak appears to bleed. "You're careless… but you're earnest in your love." Those teeth remind Campbell of the first time he tasted human flesh, how it danced on his tongue and how normal food slowly became unsatisfying. "You sought me out, but don't you dare think for a second that I  _ need _ your business… If you ever forsake our agreement, I will feast on your organs while you scream for mercy. Are we clear?"

With a nod and a tremor, Campbell replies, "crystal, Mr. Harker."

"Good."

Campbell goes deathly still, eyes wide as he watches Jon finish tearing his way through his meal. He watches Jon's teeth rend flesh with ease and wonders how long it would take for the creature to devour his fill of Campbell's flesh. He watches as Jon's teeth break the tines of his fork… and he watches as Jon leaves without another word.

There is much Jonathan adores about the back alleys and dark side streets that hide just out of sight. Most are marred by his more caustic family members: crawling with bugs and rot, hiding strangers who you're sure you've seen before, filled with reminders of brief blitzes of senseless violence… But it's the scrapping, starving animals that he loves the most. 

While his presence seems to ignite a desperate edge to their hunger, they don't complain about what food he grants them, even if it's the dead flesh of a former compatriot. The cats and rats are in rare form tonight, feasting together on the desecrated carcass of a homeless woman whose spine appears misshapen in the dim lighting. They click their teeth in greeting as he passes, urging him onward through the tangled mess of ravenous beasts. A dog snaps at his hand as he passes, wishing to fill its hollow belly and grant its bones some flesh. It stops just shy and whines repentant, doe eyes spilling a crooning desire.

Jon squats beside the mangy thing and smiles with a mouth full of sharp teeth. "Are you that hungry?" he asks and bites at his finger to spill blood across them. The dog hungrily laps at his sacrifice, even as it's hollow body grows lankier and wrong. "Such a good boy."

The dog pulls away and wags its bony tail; the pain of hunger has dissipated, even if it's at the cost of being what it was. Jon adores the ravenous beasts that ask for his flesh specifically, loves them enough to call him his own…

"Come, Jue. Let's go home."

* * *

On the edges of an upscale neighborhood is a historic building that once contained a slaughterhouse. It remained empty and ill-maintained for nearly a century before Jon came to London with his adoptive parents at fourteen. At first, he hadn't wanted to leave Bursa, leave behind the hot summers and sweet winters that called the abandoned creatures to dance. He hadn't wanted to leave behind the dogs that begged in the streets or the monkeys that laughed as they stole food from unwary tourists. He hadn't wanted to go to a place that would likely misunderstand his benevolence as something entirely sinister.

A month into their stay, Jon found himself standing outside of the decrepit building on a dare from his new well-off schoolmates, and he fell in love. He spent the night in the topmost floor, where the owners once worked until the money became too much to continue. He spent the night listening to the echoes of fear, the dregs of his parent's hold in a place that had not tasted the Flesh in decades.

In the morning, once he'd proven his courage to the haughty brats who'd challenged him, he spoke to the Harkers, and they came to an agreement. The slaughterhouse was quickly and quietly purchased. He spent weeks fixing it right and inviting the Flesh to dance in this hallowed place of hunger. And in the end, it felt like home.

When at last the dreary English days drove the older Harkers back to Bursa, Jon remained, nursing his fledgling community of starving monsters and ravenous animals from the sanctuary of the slaughterhouse.

The newly dubbed "Jue" follows him eagerly into the building, barely allowing itself a moment to scent the lobby before bounding into the caged elevator. Jon rubs at its dirty head, bearing his teeth in a pantomime of a smile when it steps closer only to go very still at the sounds coming from two floors above them.

The moment the doors open to the third floor, Jon steps out with Jue glued to his side and peering at the unfamiliar space with wide eyes. Four other ‘dogs’ come to greet them with disturbing snarls but playful eyes. Jon crouches and opens his hands for the four to come closer, allowing Jue a moment to become acquainted with its new floormates. “I will keep you fed,” Jon whispers, catching most of Jue’s attention, “and all you have to do is get along with one another for now…”

* * *

After washing Jue and setting out fresh food for the five monstrosities on third floor, Jon proceeds up to the next three to check on the felines, the rodents and the birds. They greet him with open glee and ravenous hunger that makes his heart swell with affection. However, it takes little time to take care of their needs, and he has another beast waiting for his attention.

The topmost floor is his apartment and the gigantic, well-stocked kitchen where an old, well-loved table sits across the back wall, just out of site of the barred window. A most delectable scent pulls him in further to that table and the desecrated corpse splayed out across it. A basket of treats made with the blood and flesh of an unwary victim sit beside the mutilated body, but they do not belong together. The basket is from Mr. Spider, who’s always willing to share new recipes with someone who  _ understands _ , and Jon is so very grateful that the aspect thinks of him as a friend.

But it’s the corpse that draws his attention, especially considering that the bones, pulled free from the body and cleaned meticulously to be piled up on the nearby counter for later inspection. They whisper secrets, of why and how and when and who… Not that Jon didn’t already know the answer to that last question.

“Hello, Jared.” There’s no point in turning around, not when there’s strong arms encircling his waist to mold his smaller frame to Jared’s front. Jon can hear Jared’s hearts beat so clearly, and he’s swept up in a tidal wave of affection for the avatar. “I see that you were busy…”

Jared chuckles and lets Jon twist in his hold until they’re looking at one another; as much as he adores holding Jon so close that it’s difficult to tell where one body ends and the other begins, he loves the way Jon’s bloody gaze turns so soft despite their predatory gleam. “I figured we’d make dinner together,” Jared drawls and pulls Jon in for a chaste kiss. There’s a purr in the eldritch’s chest, one demanding that Jared feed the ravenous greed in his soul. “Then you can decide what to do with our new bones.”

Jon hums thoughtfully and acquiesces, “I suppose I am quite hungry…”


End file.
